


The Spartan and the Geisha

by twoscarypandas



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fantasy Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoscarypandas/pseuds/twoscarypandas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greece and Japan engage in a little (inaccurate) cultural roleplay. It's...almost what you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spartan and the Geisha

**Author's Note:**

> We've had this one on the backburner for ages, so we're glad to finally finish editing it and get it posted! Fair warning: we did a little research, but since this was meant to be silly, smutty fun and we didn't want to break any serious traditions, the "culture" element is probably not particularly accurate. Enjoy!

It is a good thing Kiku's people are not in the habit of questioning the nations. Otherwise, Heracles thinks the last hour or so would have been a great deal more awkward. As with everything in Kiku's house, it involved a great deal of ceremony, all in the name of 'a greater understanding of culture.' Really, it's a sex thing. But calling it culture sounds a bit classier.

Now the women are gone and Hera sits alone in front of the tea table, unable to help eyeing himself in the mirror. With all that pale makeup and his hair pulled up (Kiku requested they forgo the wig), he can hardly recognize himself. He sits quietly, not even looking up when he hears the creak of the door and the rattle of light armor. It's harder still not to smile when he hears Kiku gasp. "Good evening, sir."

Kiku stops dead. Really, after all the armor, the wine he's been forced to chug, and the semi-drunken practice he'd had using the sword tied to his waist, he should've been prepared for the payoff. But now, staring at this beautiful thing he's been waiting for... his private fantasies did not even come close.

He steps into the room slowly, the fringed leather around his waist slapping playfully at his thighs. "I don't see you pouring," he says in a tone that is not gruff, that does not attempt to be sharp. A Spartan holds nothing but strength and power, and he does not need to bark to exude it.

Now Hera looks up, smiling just a little with his brightly painted lips. Kiku looks incredible in the leather skirt, bright breastplate, and red cape. He has a sword at his side and a plumed helmet under his arm. This was _definitely_ a good idea. Slowly, he pours the tea and sets it out for his warrior.

With his shoulders back and the helmet at his side, Kiku sweeps his cape over the floor and heads to the table. He assesses it carefully, taking an inventory of the ceremony, the offering to this great warrior. His steps are measured, his strides none too quick. "You will look up at me," he says, as though it is not a demand but a statement of fact. "You understand that, as a superior man, I have every right to conquer you."

That should not send such thrills through him, but Hera shivers anyway. He looks up, still giving Kiku that secret, sly smile. "I hope I can entertain you, my warrior."

"You are not here to entertain me," Kiku says. His hand falls heavily to Hera's shoulder, but it climbs up his neck soft as a spider and grasps his chin. "You are here to meet my needs. Now let us see if you are adequate." He pulls Hera's gaze to his own and holds it. His breath falls short at the sight of him in that make-up, those decadent red lips, that snow white skin, the sharp lashes... He meant to kiss those lips, but he can't, not yet. He can't smear that beautiful face.

"Show yourself to me," he demands instead, releasing Hera’s face to walk to the other side of the table. He sprawls out on the floor, a position he's not used to. However, it has the desired effect of confidence in one's ability to own the room.

_By the old gods_ , Heracles thinks. This confident, demanding Kiku is sexy. The edge to his voice sends blood pooling straight to his groin. He stands slowly, running a hand down the front of his complicated costume. He's still trying to figure out exactly how he's supposed to get out of it gracefully, so he hopes a slow turn and a knowing gaze will be sufficient. He does manage to bare his shoulder a bit more, revealing the edge of the paint.

Kiku's blood is growing hotter with each new millimeter that is unveiled. Beautiful; beautiful in every way. Exactly as he is meant to be. He wishes they'd thought to set up a camera. Originally, this idea had been a joke, a playful game of _'I wonder what would've happened if...'_ Now Kiku almost wishes it _had_ happened before, so that he would not be so surprised by the heat between them in this moment.

The garment slides down Hera's shoulder, and Kiku licks his lips at the sight of his skin - once tanned, now milky white with the help of make-up. The very thought of painting Hera makes him harden. "I have no use for your games," he says, even though he knows the tease should prolong this. Perhaps, if he's getting off on the tease, Hera will get off on his impatience.

Heracles supposes it is unfair; Spartans do not wear very much, after all, and he already has an excellent view of Kiku's skin. Still, the demand of that voice and the clear desire in Kiku’s eyes make him want to prolong every moment, to bring out the conqueror in his sweet lover. He bows low. "Apologies, my warrior. Will you have something to drink before we begin? I could sing for you." From this angle, Hera can see just a peek of Kiku's cock under the leather. It makes him want to lick his lips, but that might ruin the stain. He swallows instead.

After a moment of temptation, Kiku murmurs, "A drink. No song." Giving an inch so that Hera can take a mile. Narrowing his eyes, Kiku raises one knee to let the skirt ride up and show off his cock, for once unashamed.

Hera nods, folding himself once more by the table and keeping his shoulder bare. He wants to touch Kiku so badly that his hands almost shake as he presents the cup to him. He looks so proud sitting there, baring himself and expecting only admiration. Hera certainly _does_ admire him, with as much demure decorum as he can muster.

Kiku takes the cup, his eyes falling to it belatedly. Tea. He's had enough wine tonight to make this a nice change, but Spartans don't drink tea. He takes a taste and sets it aside. "I am here for more than just your shoulder," he says, his voice heavy with intent, pure intent, to conquer Hera's body. And Hera damn well better know it by now. "Are you wasting my time?"

That look alone makes Hera want to strip naked and do it right here at the tea table. On the other hand, he wants to take his time with this; he wants to make Kiku desperate by the time they get to bed. He returns the gaze from beneath his eyelashes. "Anticipation makes victory sweeter. Let me build on your pleasure."

Oh... How typical of a geisha, and how perfectly in tune with this moment. Hera has become a flower, a soft and delicate thing that whispers proverbs and asks to build the heat rather than simply jumping into the fire. This is the sexiest thing Kiku has ever seen. Slowly, he shifts his legs apart. _You are made of power,_ he reminds himself. _You are raw heat._ "I do not, and will not, _let_ anyone do anything."

Such a strange dynamic, this play of power and control. They are at once very much themselves and very much not. Heracles might like to think on it for a while, come up with some profound thing to say about it. However, he is much more interested in Kiku. His voice, his eyes, and his stance simply exude sex, and Hera wants to lap it all up. "Want me, then," he says.

"I am already doing that very well. And have been, for some time." Kiku's eyes narrow, his tone as deadly as it is seductive. Heracles is the most gorgeous geisha that has ever walked in his home. He gives in and reaches out, sliding a commanding hand over his cheek. "You _are_ wasting my time, aren't you? Let me be clear: I may be lenient for your beauty, but you will not escape my hand."

Hera turns his face, leaning into the hand but looking away. Kiku has small hands, but they are very strong. "I would not want to," he replies. What he wants is to feel those hands all over his body, taking control and taking him apart. This slow seduction is driving him crazy, just as much as it is arousing them both. Finally he looks back, daring to reach up and trace the back of that hand with his fingers. "What is it you want, my warrior?"

Kiku's heart thuds at those careful fingers, and suddenly all he can hear, feel, see, or want is Hera. He breathes in, murmuring the words: _"Suck my cock."_ Three little words, but they come out like a royal order. His hand slides over Hera's pinned hair. This rush of lust is the most exhilarating thing he's ever felt.

Hera doesn't say anything; isn't really sure that he _could._ Instead he stands with a soft rustle of cloth, keeping a gentle hold of Kiku's hand and guiding him to his feet as well. He starts walking, then pauses to glance over the white of his bare shoulder and make promises with his eyes. Then he lets the hand drop, expecting Kiku to follow him to the bedroom.

Kiku swallows, trying to maintain his confident stride as he walks with a growing erection. He follows Hera's pull, then simply follows Hera, all the way to the bedroom he calls home. It has been slightly reorganized for the occasion, with petals on the floor, incense burning in the corners, and lanterns bathing the room in softly colored light. Kiku barely notices. The sight of Hera, one shoulder exposed to the lamplight, his face white as the moon... That's what draws him.

At Hera's silent urging Kiku falls to the edge of the bed, the leather skimming over his thighs and rubbing softly against his cock. Hera waits for him to settle, then sinks down between his legs. Again he pauses, one hand on Kiku's knee as he looks up. "You believe you can keep me waiting forever?" Kiku demands, though the voice is barely his own. His hand slides up, taking hold of the sleek bun made of Hera's normally unruly hair. With a strong tug, he pulls him in. "You've heard my wish. Comply."

"As you wish." Heracles runs both hands up the insides of Kiku's thighs, pushing the leather out of the way, letting it tease over his lover's skin. His head follows the pull, until he finally parts his bright red lips to kiss the very tip of Kiku's cock. His tongue darts out, licking at the slit, and he nearly groans to finally taste him, touch him. Hera can't wait any longer. He takes the base of Kiku’s cock in hand and sucks the rest into his mouth.

Kiku lets out a sound, a groan, his hand gripping Hera's hair as his he tips his neck back, reveling in the sweet wetness of that painted mouth. This is what heaven feels like. He pushes into that mouth, trying not to thrust as he looks down again and finds Hera's eyes. He's such a sight like this: the red stain on his lips smearing a little, those eyes wide and rimmed with black. He is a snow queen, so beautiful that Kiku should not be allowed to touch him. But Spartans do not resist such beauty - they take it.

One hand keeps petting over Kiku's thigh, and Hera enjoys the liberty of the touch as he sucks on him. He wraps his tongue over the warm flesh as he works, making the slide of his mouth easier and faster as he bobs his head, encouraging Kiku to thrust. The grip in his hair tightens and twists, pulling pieces loose from the bun and pinned flowers. He glances toward Kiku's face. The man is staring back, a little more like the Kiku he knows now that he's lost in the pleasure. It makes Hera smile around his cock. He takes a steady breath through his nose, then starts to hum.

Kiku's hips _jolt_ at the vibration, and he twists his grip in Hera's hair, yanking him down _._ Yes... Oh, yes, that red, hungry mouth is twice as good, knowing it's Hera. He starts pushing into his mouth, his hips jolting just a little bit to provide the thrust. His hands are doing most of the work, holding Hera to his cock, forcing him down further.

Hera's lips hit his fingers, and he releases the base to slip his hand under Kiku's cock and gently toy with his balls as his mouth sinks down. He takes his time, despite the hand in his hair, so that he can swallow it all.

Kiku's mouth falls open and he makes a sound, a soft moan that is distinctly his own. He pushes up, his hips jerking harder. Those hands touching his sack, that mouth sucking him so deep... No one gives head like Hera. He moans again, gripping that hair and jerking his hips up again, fucking his mouth.

Hera swallows around him, his senses overwhelmed by Kiku: his taste, his smell, the sound of his moans. It's completely intoxicating, making his own cock harden beneath the fabric. He can feel Kiku getting close in the tension of his thighs, so he twists his tongue and sucks _hard,_ still humming in the back of his throat.

"Ah--H-Hera!" Kiku loses it then, his hips pushing forward as he pours rivers of cum into Hera’s mouth. Oh sweet heaven, he's flying. That mouth is so good he's surprised he held out for so long. Spartan strength, perhaps. Or wine.

Hera swallows as much as he can and delicately wipes the rest away with his fingers, so as not to smear the makeup any more than he already has. Kiku's cock has streaks of red in rings around it, and he can't help a light laugh. Kiku himself is blissed out, legs sprawled open as he catches his breath. Hera remains on his knees, gently stroking his lover’s thigh. "I hope that was satisfactory."

Kiku is still feeling the quakes, his body finally settling as he hears Hera's voice. "More than," he purrs. He needs to rein that in. His role is power, not happy little kitten. "Strip," he commands, trying to find the voice he had before Hera blew his mind.

With a soft smile, Hera stands again. It is nice to know that no matter their roles, he can always find Kiku again underneath the facade. He turns his back to the bed as he unhooks the wide belt from around his torso, setting it aside and letting the robe fall down both shoulders to reveal some of his back. As he pulls apart both the colorful top robe and the plain one beneath, he moves again to half-face Kiku, giving him teases of the skin of his chest until it parts all the way down the front. Underneath he is naked, his cock standing hard between his legs. Hera lets the sleeves fall down to his elbows, but does not remove the garment completely. He has one more surprise for his lover to find.

That erection is gorgeous. Kiku almost wants to roll over and give Hera the fuck of his life. But that's not part of this game. He sits up again, crooking his finger to call his geisha closer. He reaches up to take hold of Hera’s neck. "Look at you - you're a mess. Now on your knees again. Show me your cock."

The edge is back in Kiku's voice, and Hera is all too happy to obey. He drops down in front of him, spreading his knees apart and leaning back so that his cock is exposed. The robe pools around his arms and he drags one edge over thigh, just to give Kiku a more artistic display. It’s only fair, considering his own view: Kiku makes an intimidating figure from here, lit from behind with the lanterns glinting off his armor and the hilt of the sword at his side.

Hera is on his knees, exposing himself. Just that would've made Kiku run here in a heartbeat, but seeing him in that little geisha display is enough to get him stiff again. He dares not step any closer. He would be in Hera's lap in ten seconds, and this game would end. Very pleasantly, but still.

Circling Hera instead, Kiku tries to decide what to do with him. He has the power here - all of it. And there's very little he loves more than seeing Hera in positions like these. His sword bumps his calf, and he moves to remove it... then gets an ingenious idea.

"You have an adequate body," he says, squaring his shoulders as he draws the sword. He slides his fingers over the blade, as if testing it. "An adequate cock." _More than adequate_. "Make it hard while I assess the rest of you."

Hera's breath hitches, his eyes following the length of that sword. It is 100% real. Why he insisted they include a real sword he cannot quite recall, but it probably had something to do with the hope that Kiku would find an interesting way to use it. "As you wish."

He slides a hand over his painted collar and down his belly. He's already close to fully erect; Kiku has left very little work for him to do. When he finally wraps his hand around his cock he hisses, letting his head fall back as he starts to move his fist in long, slow strokes.

Oh, Kiku so loves Hera's hands. His eyes follow them for a moment, just watching him caresses that lovely cock. It's complete temptation. Sliding his eyes upward, he presses the steel of the blade against Hera's side, using it to tease the robe open further. "Muscle... Excellent," Kiku says. He skims the blade up Hera’s skin, careful not to knick him.

Hera gasps, his body caught between wanting to flinch away from the cold blade and wanting to lean into its smooth, dangerous touch. He moves his free hand from his thigh to tease the head of his cock, playing with the foreskin and spreading the precum. His eyes remain on Kiku, waiting for his next move and loving the desire in his eyes.

Kiku uses the sword to push the fabric aside, his eyes following each new inch of skin revealed. It's beautiful. Then his gaze falls to the hand working that gorgeous, uncut cock, and he licks his lips. He has to lean in, but he just barely stops himself from kissing Hera. "Give me one good reason why I should have you, out of all the men that beg for such an honor every day."

In spite of the Spartan garb and the wine on his breath, Kiku still smells of cherry blossoms. Hera is nearly dizzy with it; or perhaps that’s from the way he's working his cock, one hand stroking it while the other roams over his thighs, scrotum, and stomach. "Because I am yours," Hera whispers.

“That's right. You are mine," Kiku whispers back, as awed with the sight as he is with the truth of those words. He pulls back a little, setting the tip of the blade against Hera's side. "You can have no one else. You belong to me." The blade slices cleanly through the back of the robe, and Kiku circles his lover's kneeling body. "And I will never let you go, do you understand? Never."

"Yes." Hera shudders, a soft moan falling from his lips. He tilts his head back to watch Kiku, his chest rising and falling heavily. Here, in this moment, he really means it. He will be Kiku's forever, so long as the man keeps looking at him like that.

For a long moment, Kiku's eyes hold Hera's. They are the most beautiful, ever-changing pools of green he’s ever seen. Kiku feels such heat in his blood that he can barely breathe. He has to back up or lose control. There is a _rip_ when he takes a step, and he looks down to find his sword is tearing through the fabric. Oh... _Oh._ He slides the tip of the sword up, letting the sharp edge lightly graze Hera's back as he cuts the robe all the way up to his shoulder.

Hera hisses, the slight sting only adding to the sensations overwhelming his body. He has to slow his hand and dig his nails into his thigh in order to bring himself back from the brink of orgasm. The fabric slips over the skin of his back, exposing the end of the white paint below his shoulders. He can't wait for the rest of the robe to come off, so he can show Kiku everything.

The tip of the sword finally meets with Hera's collar, and Kiku cuts through it as easily as the rest of the garment. His eyes widen as the robe falls away. "Hera..."

Kanji lettering starts about halfway down Hera's spine and runs down to the small of his back, painted in a black ink that will not smear or wash away as easily as his makeup. He leans forward, curling so that Kiku can get a better view of the last letters that dip into the shadow at the base of his spine. The message is simple: I love you Kiku.

Kiku drops his sword with a clatter and stares at the image. It is a powerful one, a beautiful one. One that he wants to keep forever. His arms slide around Hera's neck as he presses himself against his lover’s back and whispers in his ear. "Ai shiteru, Hera. Always."

"S'agapo, Kiku," Hera replies, turning his head just enough to reach Kiku’s lips. The kiss is light, but the energy between them is something powerful. Hera pulls away with a soft smile. "Are you going to make me sing, warrior?"

Kiku's eyes narrow and he spreads his knees, pressing his cock against Hera's back through the leather armor. "I'll make you scream," he taunts, his hands sliding up Hera's bare chest where he can feel his heart pound. "Oil yourself. I have no time for your games."

Hera rocks back against him gently, the leather pulling at his skin. Then he slides to his feet, dragging his back up Kiku's chest and finally letting the remains of the robe slide off his arms. Bare except for the paint, he climbs onto the bed and reaches for the glass vial on the bedside table. It's filled with oil and herbs from Kiku's garden; an old recipe to keep with the theme. He lies back against the pillows and puts his feet flat against the bed, legs open wide, then spreads himself with his fingers so he can drizzle the oil down his cleft.

Kiku watches him, his eyes narrowed in lust as he approaches the bed. His hand reaches for that place, guiding the oil inside with a long, teasing finger. Hera and he do not play like this often. Yet this time, Hera is the one giving up his tight, sexy ass. The thought fills Kiku with more lust than he thought possible. He presses another finger inside, leaning over Hera with his hair falling into his face. "Your ass had better be worth the expense."

Hera groans, his whole world narrowing to Kiku: the silky black hair tickling his face, the wine-sweetened breath on his lips, the small, nimble fingers rubbing oil inside his body. He tightens his muscles, loving the way it makes Kiku’s fingers twitch. "You'll never want another," he promises, leaning up to press his lips against Kiku's in a kiss that smears red over Kiku's mouth and chin.

Kiku moans into that sweet, sloppy kiss, his body rocking into it before he finally regains the willpower to pull back. "Turn over," he commands, his voice rough and dark with the kind of lust that drives most men insane. "Hands and knees." The words end in a hiss as he furiously works his cock with oil, making it wet.

That voice sends hot thrills through Hera's body, leaving him aching with desire. He rolls beneath Kiku, keeping as much contact between them as he can: his side against Kiku's arm, his hip to Kiku's thigh, and finally his ass against the hand working his lover's cock.

It's like they can read each other's thoughts. Seeing him like this, Kiku knows what Hera wants, what he's been dreaming about. The leather flaps of his skirt rub against Hera’s thighs as Kiku presses himself against him. He licks his way down Hera’s back, criss-crossing over the ink with his tongue. Then his hand comes down in a hard smack to Hera’s thigh. "Beg for it."

Hera cries out, jolting forward from the force. The tingles in his thigh spread out and his stomach pulls tight, his body already begging for more. _"Please,"_ he says, looking over his shoulder to meet Kiku's eyes. "Please, my warrior, take me! Come inside me, make me your own. _Conquer_ me, and I'll scream just for you."

Any other time, any other place, those words would leave Kiku blushing like mad. But here, with Hera... He's in love, and he's in control. He doesn't have to be embarrassed of anything. He grips those hips, dragging Hera back. When he pushes inside, it's beyond any memory. Hera is tight, tight as the line between heaven and hell, and Kiku cries out, his nails ripping at the skin.

Hera groans, low and hard and a little too dirty for the delicate geisha he's supposed to be. He digs his hands into the pillows and presses back, working his ass around Kiku's cock. His brain is spinning and his cock is so hard he wonders how he's going to hold on. Everything is hot, tense pleasure, solidly under Kiku's control. His body welcomes it with a shudder.

Sucking in a deep, desperate breath, Kiku slides his fingers down Hera's hips and reaches for his hard, wet cock. He takes hold of it with a slippery hand as he shells his body over his lover's, hips rolling together as they find a rhythm that makes him gasp for air.

The thrusts are deep and hard. Heracles can feel Kiku exhale against his neck, lips occasionally brushing over his skin. The armor is hard against his back, as unforgiving as the thrusts or the hand around his cock. Hera is utterly lost to the sensations, meeting every slide of Kiku's cock. Then Kiku twists the hand around his cock and slams deep inside, making him shout. "W-wait! I'm going to-! Please, not yet, I want more!"

Kiku's grip turns hard, pausing just beneath the head, and he goes completely still (though his entire body trembles with the desire to move). "You want more?" he asks. His voice is heavy, lustful, and haunted by need, but still in control, still filled with strength that he can barely contain. "Aren't I giving you _everything-"_ He punctuates that word with a thrust. "-you could ever _need?"_ And another. It’s the greatest feeling in the world.

_"Yes."_ Hera sinks to his elbows, his body jerking with the need to come. He feels like his heart can't keep up with his breath. He shifts his knees to spread them wider, opening himself further to Kiku's thrusts. "But it's never enough. I can never have enough of you, my warrior, my love, Kiku, _please!"_ The angle shifts, and his plea turns into a yelp.

The minute Hera cries out, Kiku smiles. He squeezes hard around Hera’s cock and starts to aim for that spot, pounding it over and over until Hera is writhing, his entire body jerking, his mouth begging in Greek and Japanese and English. Finally, Kiku starts to pump him again.

Hera doesn't know what he's saying anymore, doesn't know if the sounds he's making even translate to human speech. Kiku pumps him once, twice, then thrusts into him so that Hera throws his head back, his entire body spasming as he comes _._ He keeps rocking himself back against Kiku, the rhythm broken as he quivers around him and tries to bring him over the edge.

Hera shouts and Kiku loses his mind, his body slamming into Hera's one last time before he's spilling into him, coming hard for the second time this evening. His hips jolt and jerk through it until he finally collapses with Hera, half falling to his side.

For a moment they both just breathe, chests heaving and hearts thumping. Hera shifts to face Kiku, and even the feel of Kiku’s cock slipping from his body sends a shudder of aftershock through him, light as fingers traced up his spine. There's a soft smile on his lips, matching the pleasant tingling of the rest of his body. He reaches out and brushes his thumb over Kiku's cheek. "Was that adequate, my warrior?"

"Mmm, it will take a lot of time and practice for you to truly be adequate," Kiku replies, a dopey smile on his face as he strokes a gentle hand over Hera's cheek. "But you are, at least, good enough to keep."

Hera kisses him, long and slow and sweet. Then he pulls back and grins. "Good. That will be ten thousand yen."


End file.
